Ardent Warrior, Faithful Heart
by TheCheat151
Summary: Legend has not bestowed a good reputation upon her, but perhaps things are different in the tale of Arthur Castus. The story of Nimue - of life, love, loyalty, and loss.
1. Chance Encounter

**Ardent Warrior, Faithful Heart  
**

**Summary: **The story of Nimue - of life, love, loyalty, and loss.

**Author's Note: **I have long loved the legend of King Arthur and his knights, and while I was apprehensive at first about seeing the story stripped of its magic, I thought the movie was great. This story is an attempt to fit a common character from the legend into the Romanesque version given to us on the big screen. Among other things, Nimue has often been portrayed as Merlin's apprentice, but with no magic at work here, I have given her another role. I hope you enjoying reading it, as I am enjoying writing it. Reviews are welcome, and though it's young, this seems like a friendly and helpful fandom that I am excited to be writing in!

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**Chance Encounter**

Alone time – that was exactly what Tristan needed right now. With recent rumors of Rome's intention to leave Britain, Arthur had taken his knights southward to Caerleon to meet with the Roman commander there. It had been a long journey from their hold at Eboracum, and it was turning out to be an even longer trip back as Arthur took them as far north as Hadrian's Wall itself to check their outposts there.

It had been a trying patrol to say the least, and Tristan largely credited that to the lack of fighting. One thing he had learned from fifteen years with his fellow knights, was that they got on much better when they had a common enemy to distract them. Unfortunately, their trip southward had produced few, lending to a steady rise in tension among them. Add that to a newly found resentment for their southern counterparts, and a growing anticipation over their upcoming discharge, and Tristan found himself appreciating his lone position of scout more and more. Not that any of his comrades found his behavior out of the ordinary, he had always been a solitary figure among the close knit group, and any change in the two months remaining before meeting up with Bishop Germanius' arrival party was unlikely.

Currently the small band of travelers was stopped at Luguvallium, a small fort located directly on the western end of the wall. It was by far their closest post to enemy territory in the north. Still, their was a strong Roman presence there for the time being, and the Woads had learned from experience that it was easily defended due to a strong vantage point. Therefore, when Tristan walked alone from the fort, leading his horse leisurely behind him for a little break from the others, he was surprised to find himself suddenly surrounded by four of his painted enemies not five hundred yards from the safety of Luguvallium's stone walls.

With a fleeting glance back at the camp to check for any hope of reinforcements, and settled for drawing his sword when there were none to be found. Sizing up his opponents, he attempted to determine the best course of action. He was obviously outnumbered, but in his favor was his skill. Though they were capable and courageous warriors, one alone was no match for any of the Sarmatian knights. Their short stature did not help much either. Still, in this case, with the odds stacked against him numerically, it was unlikely that he would come out of a fight unscathed. But then again, what choice did he have.

Gripping his sword in both hands, he assumed a fighting stance and waited for one of the Woads to strike. He did not wait long before one of them swung, forcing him to parry. Immediately the other three moved forward to strike, but unfortunately for them, the opportunity never came.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

A deep, but characteristically feminine voice resonated loudly and the four Woads froze at the sound and stepped back. The language was not his own, but to Tristan, fifteen years in a foreign land did not seem so foreign anymore, and he understood the words clearly. Upon hearing them, his eyes flickered for a moment as he debated between looking toward the source of the voice and maintaining his gaze on his attackers. In the end, he seemed satisfied that whatever had stopped their attack to begin with, was most likely enough to keep him safe long enough to find out for himself. Turning his attention away from the present threat, Tristan found his inquiring stare met by a narrowed set of brown eyes framed by dark hair and black paint. Instinctively his gaze shot back to the Woads surrounding him when a sudden motion caught his eye beside him.

"I said, don't touch him," the woman repeated, and immediately the Woad who had dared to move recoiled.

"If we kill him now there will be one less of them later," the man standing directly in front of Tristan spoke up.

His argument went unanswered momentarily as the woman came forward and stepped up close, drawing a long, curved knife and pressing it close to the man's neck.

"Are you arguing with me," she asked him in barely a whisper.

Shaking his head no, the man immediately fell silent.

"Good, then all of you get out of here or I'll let him kill you one by one."

And with that, they were gone, just as fast as they had come. The woman lingered for only a moment. Her dark gaze boring into his without revealing any emotion of her own, but unable to read him as well. Finally, she sheathed the knife she had drawn earlier, gave Tristan a slight nod, turned and followed the others without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

Standing there staring at the spot where the she-Woad had disappeared into the trees, Tristan became aware of the sound of hooves approaching behind him.

"What happened?" He heard Gawain yell to him with concern as he brought his mount to a halt.

Turning slowly to face him, Tristan shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. "She called them off."

"She, called them off?" Gawain repeated slowly, taking a moment to comprehend what he had just seen and heard.

With a nod and a shrug, Tristan re-sheathed his sword, mounted his horse and followed Gawain back to the fort. On the way he shot a final look over his shoulder where he was certain he saw a slender figure watching him from within the cover of the trees.


	2. Explanations and Understanding

**Explanations and Understanding**

She knew she was in for it even before the Elders' messenger sought her out. As she watched the Sarmatian's retreating figure in the distance, she sighed heavily, preparing herself for what was surely to come next. Turning from Luguvallium, she whistled lightly and waited as her horse cantered lightly to where she stood. Mounting him, she headed deep into the thick of the forest, and was shortly met by Llyd.

"Nimue," he greeted her with a nod. "The Elders wish to speak with you."

"I expected as much," she replied, slightly surprised to see that Merlin had sent his top lieutenant.

They made the rest of the trip in silence, Llyd allowing her time to think through what she wished to say in her defense. When they had reached the clearing where the Woads of the area resided, Nimue dismounted, turned over her horse, and began her short but solitary walk to where the five Elders sat by the fire, waiting for her.

"Nimue," Merlin greeted her, motioning for her to take a seat.

She remained standing instead and said nothing, her chin tilted up slightly in defiance, as she waited for him to continue. When he did not, the man next to him, Galapas, cleared his throat.

"You must know why we have called you here," he began slowly.

"I have some idea," Nimue shot back coolly.

"You stopped an attack on the Sarmatian, you have allowed our enemy to live."

"That depends on your definition of enemy."

Galapas appeared taken aback. "You would consider the knights our allies then?"

"That is not what I said," she began to clarify. "Rome is my enemy…"

"And the Sarmatians fight for Rome," he cut her off.

"Not by their own choice," she shot back just as fast. "The are bound to the empire, but that does not mean they believe in what they are forced to do. They are good men who long for freedom just as we do."

"Be that as it may," Galapas made to reprimand her again. "As long as they serve Rome, they are no friends of ours."

"Are you so blind," Nimue retorted in spite of his attempts to chasten her. "Rome is leaving this land. In two months the Sarmatians will be discharged and the empire will withdraw her presence here. Once again our country will be free for the taking. In the north the Saxons grow in number everyday under the command of Cerdic. To the east the Angles lie and to the west are the Celts. With the Romans gone what is to stop any of them from trying to claim Britain for their own? For we certainly do not have the manpower to take up a new war when we have fought so long in this one."

"That is a matter of opinion, if we can maintain the Romans we can surely defend ourselves against those others."

"Maintained! We have maintained nothing! We no longer possess even half the land we once did. What you call maintaining, I call struggling to survive. With each battle our numbers dwindle, our forces grow smaller. But you refuse to see that as you sit here in the comfort of your circle. But I see it. I see it because I am out there fighting, I am out there watching my people die in a war they have no hope of winning. And it will only get worse. So whether you choose to see it or not, the day is coming when we may very well need the Sarmatians, and I will not burn my bridges without reason."

"That is not for you to decide," Galapas spat back, standing up in a rage.

"Well I already have. You have charged me with command of our forces and as such it is within my power to make decisions regarding when and where my warriors fight. If you do not like it, and you wish to name someone else in my stead, then so be it."

Galapas sucked in a breath, preparing to fire another comment when Merlin stood and rose a hand to silence him.

"That will not be necessary," he spoke calmly. "You have always served our people well and we are greatly indebted to you for it. As such, we will accept the explanation you have offered as to your actions. However, I ask that you not forget whom you serve Nimue. You may lead the people on the battlefield, but you ultimately answer to the us."

"Yes sir," Nimue answered slowly, attempting to mask just how badly his words had stung her. With a stiff nod, she turned and left the Elders.

Thrashing through the small Woad settlement, Nimue stomped angrily out of the clearing and into the surrounding trees. Cursing under her breath, she was not aware that someone was following her as she continued plodding along. As she went, she was greeted by those she passed, but she did not acknowledge them nor stop until she reached her destination, a small clearing near a mile and a half away from the settlement.

Throwing herself dejectedly on top of a large rock, Nimue grabbed a small stone lying on the ground and hurled it at the nearby stream with all her might. She watched indifferently as it skipped across the surface a few times before sinking to the bottom. By now she was beginning to cool down, and as her anger lessened she began to regain her typically astute senses.

"You can come out now," she spoke at last to the figure still hidden in the shadows of the trees.

Leaning on his walking stick, Merlin came forward at her words and took a seat beside her on the rock. Though she knew he was waiting for her to continue speaking, Nimue instead remained silent.

"Is it the Elders you are angry with, or me," the old man spoke at last.

"They are one in the same are they not?"

"You know what I mean Nimue," he answered firmly.

"Oh Father, I hope you did not come all this way to patronize me," she huffed in response.

"No, I came to tell you how proud I am of you. You spoke with courage and strength today to the other Elders and I. And more importantly, you spoke the truth."

"And yet you did not defend me."

"As you should know by now that I wouldn't. You must remember my dear, that though you are my daughter, I have a whole people to look after, and as a leader you must stand on your own two feet."

"You might have said something to quell Galapas."

"Did I not?"

Sighing, Nimue knew there was no use in arguing that point. "Still, if you say I speak the truth, then I would expect you to support it."

"And I do Nimue, but that does not mean that everyone shares our sentiment. Our people see the Sarmatians as their enemy, and until we can change that, we must tread lightly in our actions or else we risk division among ourselves. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered solemnly.

"Good, then come here," he said pulling her to him in a hug.

After a few moment's embrace, Merlin gave his daughter a kiss on her forehead, bid her goodbye, and retreated back into the shadow's leaving Nimue once again with her thoughts. She could see his point, but she could not quite stifle the harsh bitterness she felt over Galapas' treatment of her. Grabbing another stone, she skipped it across the stream just as she had with the first. She was not alone for long though, for shortly after Merlin left her, she heard a familiar set of footsteps approaching.

"You let the Sarmatian go," a voice full of disbelief and accusation spoke from behind her.

With a another heavy sigh, Nimue turned to confront her accuser. "What of it?"

"Father says the Romans have clouded your judgment and that you would join them and take all of Britain if you had the chance," Guinevere pressed on.

"You're father's an idiot."

Guinevere gasped. "My father is one of the Elders!"

"As is mine."

"And still you would dare speak of him like that?"

"I will speak however I want of whomever I please. Your father included," Nimue snarled back at the younger woman.  
"Nimue he is your uncle!"

"What do I care," Nimue cried in a rage as she jumped from her place on the rock. "He has no love for me. He would see my death in an instant if it meant that his precious Guinevere would take my place!"

"You know that is not true."

"Of course it is!" Nimue's eyes blazed with fury at her cousin. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes in attempts to calm herself and turned away. "I am not having this conversation with you Guinevere. You are young, and your naivety and blind hatred are sickening. You are disillusioned with notions of a victory that is not coming. You would believe anything if only the Elders were to tell you it was true."

"Oh, and I suppose you would have me believe you instead," Guinevere cut her off.

"No! But I would at least give you both sides of the story and let you choose for yourself. You will not have the luxury of your youth and irresponsible ways forever. Soon you will be a leader among our people and you will have to make decisions on your own without having someone looking over your shoulder to tell you what to do. When you are right there will be glory, but when you are wrong you will have to offer explanations for your choice."

"As you have had to explain today," Guinevere asked, her voice now free of anger as she began to understand her cousin's words.

"Yes," Nimue answered solemnly.

This simple answer seemed to be enough for Guinevere as she fell quiet upon hearing it. For some time after that, the two women sat together in silence, each sifting through the turmoil of their own thoughts.

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**Author's Note: **Just want to take a minute to say thanks to those of you who have reviewed so far. As writers yourselves I'm sure you know how inspiring they are and how much they help to keep a story going. 

**_Blue Eyes At Night, kungfuchick, Blue Butterfly:_** Glad to know you all like it, hope I can live up to your expectations.

**_Sweet Saturn:_** I see your point about preferring the legend over the movie, I find the legend far more interesting myself. I chose the movie though because I don't think I could accomplish what I'm going for in the context of the legend. I find movie fandoms to be a little easier to write in because you have a little more creative liscense; book readers and reviewers tend to be a bit more strung out over sticking to cannon than movie. I just couldn't see this story fitting in with "Crystal Cave" or "The Once and Future King" so that's why I chose to write from the movie perspective. Hope you'll still enjoy!

Angie


	3. Roman Misgivings

**Author's Note: ** Again, thanks goes out to all who have reviewed, I sincerely appreciate your feedback. A quick sorry as well for how long it took me to get this chapter up, the work schedule has been hectic this past week and I hardly had any time to write at all. And one last note I thought I'd throw in here, for the purpose of this story Galapas is Guinivere's father and Merlin's brother-in-law, making him Nimue's uncle. I don't think I really made that clear in the last chapter, as kungfuchick brought it up. I know sometimes I have everything so crystal clear in my head that I take for granted that you may not. Anywho, sorry for any confusion and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

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**Roman Misgivings**  
  
The morning following her bout with the Elders, Nimue returned to her normal routine and took up a watch along the north of the wall. By noon, she had found out all she needed to know and left her post to find her father. As expected she found him deep in conversation with the other Elders, as Galapas continued his earlier disagreement with Merlin. As she approached the group, Nimue was grateful when Merlin noticed her in the distance and excused himself from the others to speak with his daughter in private, as well as prevent her from being verbally assaulted by her uncle again.

"You have news," he greeted her, taking her by the arms.

"The Roman battalion makes its way for Segedunum at tomorrow's first light. The Sarmatians go with them."

"You intend to follow with some of your infantry."

"Yes, I will take a select few and track them north of the wall until Segedunum. From there I will re-establish a position at Eboracum for surveillance purposes."

"Surveillance purposes?" Merlin asked with raised eyebrows.

"I do not travel with large numbers on this mission, nor do I plan to start a fight I cannot win. These small attacks of ours have not been successful, I go tomorrow to determine the best course of action for our people to take next."

"A wise strategy as always, but I would advise you my dear. It would be in your best interest to ensure that the entire Roman party leaving tomorrow does not make it to Eboracum."

"You want me to kill to appease Galapas," Nimue asked with a disgusted scowl.

"I am not telling you what to do either way but it would behoove you to make a point after yesterday's events."

"If I am to make a point, I would prefer to make my own point, not support theirs'," she replied coldly.

"And well I understand it, but give them a bit to quench their appetite. We are all well aware that there is little left in this battle against a retreating Rome, even Galapas sees what he does not acknowledge. What is the harm in boosting morale by allowing us to send them home with their tails between their legs?"

"What is the harm? Why don't you ask that of the people whose lives have already been taken."

"Nimue, philosophy has never been your forte, why don't you leave that to me and go and do what you're good at?"

With an indignant eye-roll and a sigh, Nimue accepted his end to their argument and left her father without so much as a good-bye. Heading to the temporary dwelling she kept at Luguvallium, she gathered her things and sent word to her warriors to be ready to leave at first light the following morning. Returning to her earlier position within the trees, she sat and thought. She was frustrated, beyond any other emotion, at the way things had turned for her people. For so long they had battled the Romans, had a purpose for their fight, and now that the Empire was leaving, it seemed the Britons did not know quite what to do with themselves - which direction to turn. They were becoming scattered and disorganized, each with his or her own ideas as to what Rome's leaving would bring them. Some were more optimistic than others, but Nimue was not among them. She knew what the Saxons were capable of, and would much prefer an orderly battle with Rome over a melee with the Saxons any day.

She did not sleep that night, but instead remained aloft in her tree thinking and watching for any signs that the Romans and Sarmatians hade decided to leave earlier than planned, but none came. At dawn, she climbed down and readied herself for their journey, calling all those to her who would be going as well. In the end, the trip from Luguvallium to Segedunum was uneventful at best. Nimue's plan was to keep their position and plan unknown to those they tracked, so they did not stage any attacks along the way, rather followed along north of the wall keeping an eye on those just south of it. She was confident that they completed the journey out of sight, but something told her that their presence did not go entirely unnoticed by some. The scout, she guessed, had a fairly good idea of his surroundings.

But whatever his suspicions may have been, his warnings to Arthur weren't entirely necessary. This was, after all, a surveillance mission, and Nimue would not jeopardize her position unless absolutely necessary. So, when they reached the second encampment along the wall, Nimue and her warriors remained hidden among the vast forest, waiting and watching. They were forced to be far more careful here than at Luguvallium, as Segedunum was not situated exactly on Hadrian's Wall, but rather sat farther south, forcing the Britons out into the openness of southern Britain. It was, of course, not an area unknown to them, but it did not provide the comfort of the north. With no attacks in mind however, the mission consisted mostly of taking up shifts watching and listening.

For the purpose of keeping their existence secret, Nimue refused to allow any of her own scouts to go within close range to the camp, though she herself ventured near on several occasions. One such occasion occurred on their fourth night there, when she had decided that Arthur and his Sarmatians must surely be relaxing between a completed journey and the nearing ride home to Eboracum. From the distance, one could make out the colors, sight, and smells of a campfire, with several laughing men circled around it. Using their distraction to her advantage, Nimue crept stealthily through the cover that the trees and overgrowth provided, until she was within very short range of her enemy. Positioning herself comfortably in a tree, she waited patiently, watching and listening to everything that was going on.

From their conversations, Nimue soon discovered that the knights did not much care for Segedunum, and it was not long before she found out why when her eavesdropping was cut off by the muffled sounds of someone struggling nearby. Instinctively Nimue jumped down from her post in the tree to investigate further. Creeping silently through the trees, she quickly came upon the source of the sound. There, in a small clearing in the forest, four Roman guards surrounded a young woman, each doing his part to control her as one of them tore at her clothes and attempted to force himself on her. The woman was a Briton, though not of Nimue's tribe, and her cries for help were stifled as one man covered her mouth, while another slapped her hard across the face for making any noise in the first place.

Disgusted at the sight before her, Nimue quickly climbed again to the tops of the nearest tree for a better vantage point. Assessing the positions of the attackers below her, Nimue deftly drew her bow and two arrows, notched them, and let them soar. Immediately two of the Romans fell, and as they other two scrambled to find the hidden sniper, Nimue returned her bow to its position across her back and jumped from her tree branch onto the ground, landing squarely between the two men. Still crouched on the ground from her descent, she thrust both hands to her waist and drew the long, identical blades that were sheathed there before rising.

Now so overcome with rage and hatred, she did not hesitate in her attack. Straightening herself, the twin blades moved in a flash, hacking left and right as she spun gracefully between the two brutes. She cut them down with deathly precision, her knives twisting skillfully overhead before she brought them back down to her sides and surveyed the slaughter that now lay before her.

Moments earlier, the same muffled cries of the woman being attacked had been noticed by another attentive set of ears. Scanning the faces around the campfire, Tristan listened again hard before standing and disappearing into the surrounding trees. Following the sound, he too made his way through the forest to the clearing where the four Romans had dragged their victim. Immediately his hand went for his sword, but before he could even un-sheath it he stopped still when two of the guards froze and fell, revealing two slender arrows buried deep within them. Tristan stayed motionless when the arrows were shortly followed by a dark figure dropping from the trees, and watched with guarded wonder as it proceeded to kill the remaining Romans.

With silent amazement he continued to stare as the figure examined its work and re-sheathed a pair of long knives. Stepping forward for a better look, his presence instantly caught the killer's attention, and he found himself staring into a familiar set of dark eyes, the Woad who had spared his life at Luguvallium. After a moment it seemed she had decided he would do her no harm as she turned her attention back to the woman lying on the ground before her. Bending down, in a great display of strength, she slowly lifted the smaller woman into her arms and rose. With one final look at Tristan, she turned and disappeared into the forest once more.

The Sarmatian stared at the spot for only a moment before turning back to his own camp. He found though that on his walk back, and for the remained of the night, he could not shake himself of the feeling that had settled over him after being targeted by her intense gaze, that final look. Those eyes had held so much, sadness, condemnation, and anger, but Tristan could not help but think that he also saw something else there – something softer. The same something he had seen just days earlier when she had called off her warriors from ending him on the spot. But he could not put his finger on exactly what that something was, and it was beginning to unnerve him a bit. After all, it was never wise to start trusting an enemy.


End file.
